


From Worlds Beyond

by YoursAlways



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale, Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, Post-The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:41:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22128883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoursAlways/pseuds/YoursAlways
Summary: When Geralt finds that his ward has returned home with an unexpected guest, Geralt must join them on a journey to send the young woman back to her own world. If only Kagome didn't have such a talent for attracting trouble along the way. Then again, Geralt always did have a fondness for difficult women.
Relationships: Higurashi Kagome/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Comments: 10
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter One

Why did it have to be Velen?   
  
Geralt had gotten word of a contract - villagers terrified of a bloodthirsty beast that was said to stalk the shadows at the edge of the forests and spirit away any unlucky enough to meet its eye - so he had of course taken to the road. His general dislike for Velen aside, monsters were monsters and coin was coin. He’d answer the call and get paid, simple as that. Usually. He could really do without the particularly rank smell of Velen’s swamps assaulting his heightened senses.   
  
He knew not all swamps and marshes reeked. Most of them often had a very musty smell that, while strong, could be earthy and almost calming. But with the bloodshed and rot filling the vast waters in Velen, there was a rancid undertone that was unfortunately unique to this province alone.  
  
And stench aside, the “monster” hadn't quite lived up to its hype. It was less of a shadowy ghoul or spectre and more of a rabid bear. While Geralt still wasn't sure whether he was grateful or disappointed at only finding a sick and angry bear, he'd still been paid the agreed upon amount and that's what mattered in the end. Witcher work wasn't always stable and a little extra coin set aside for dry spells was a small comfort.   
  
His plan for the rest of the evening was to find the nearest inn and hopefully get a bed for the night. Sleeping outside was always an option, but it was going to be his last resort. It'd been raining heavily and it seemed like the entire world was sopping wet and lifeless. A warm, dry bed for him and a stable with a roof for Roach was exactly what Geralt wanted.   
  
Wanting to get out of the rain, he almost bypassed the signpost completely. It was only out of habit that he glanced its way and his eyes caught three interesting words.   
  
_ Old White Wolf  
  
_ The posting wasn't wordy by any means, but still, Geralt quickly ripped it from its tack and took it with him to read somewhere more dry.   
  
Once he'd made it to an inn and secured a room (at a price he was all but positive was above the average rate), Geralt brought out the posting again. It was damp and crinkled and the ink had begun to run, but it was still legible enough.   
  
_ Old White Wolf,   
  
_ _ Fancy a glass of wine?   
  
_ Short and innocuous, perhaps even a little mysterious to most. But the message along with only a small etching of a swallow serving as the signature told Geralt what he needed to know.   
  
It seemed as though Ciri was back from her trip. It also looked like Geralt would be headed to Toussaint come morning. 


	2. Chapter Two

Picturesque as always, the ride up the road to his Toussaint vineyard brought a content smile to Geralt’s face. The sun was bright and warm on his skin, making him eager to get to the house and shed some of his heavier layers of armor.   
  
As always, the vineyard workers greeted him warmly as he passed by. Arriving at Corvo Bianco truly was always like returning home. Except for the cat. The mouser still didn’t like him, probably never would.   
  
Geralt dismounted from Roach and led her into the small stable in the courtyard. He’d just handed off the reins to the stablehand when he was greeted by his majordomo.   
  
“Master Geralt,” Barnabas-Basil nodded deeply in respect. “We’ve been expecting your arrival for some time.”   
  
“How long is some time?” Geralt wondered.   
  
“Nearly two fortnights now,” Barnabas-Basil answered as he took the bag Geralt unstrapped from Roach’s saddle. “Your young ward and her guest arrived one evening and informed me that you would be returning to Toussaint soon, though she failed to mention when.”   
  
“Probably because she didn’t know either,” Geralt explained as they walked towards the house. “I only saw her notice for me a few days ago in some backwater village in Velen. Started riding south the next morning.” Pausing as he reached the upper landing of the courtyard just outside his home, Geralt asked, “Wait, you said she had a guest with her?”   
  
Before Barnabas-Basil could answer, running footsteps and a shout of his name caught Geralt’s attention. The witcher turned just in time to catch Ciri as she launched herself into his arms for a tight hug.   
  
“Oh, how I’ve missed you,” Ciri sighed happily, voice a little strained from his tight returning squeeze.   
  
Geralt grinned as he loosened his grip and set Ciri back on her feet. “I didn’t even know you were back until I saw that notice in Velen.”   
  
“Ah, so that’s where you were?” Ciri asked, straightening herself to look at him. “It would’ve been a bit tricky to try and track you down myself, so I dispatched notices to be posted pretty much everywhere. And I dare say, waiting for you to show up here has been much more comfortable than the road would’ve been.”   
  
“I bet,” Geralt grunted. “B.B. has been making you very comfortable, I’m sure.”   
  
Ciri glanced toward the majordomo, who gave a long-suffering sigh and turned to take Geralt’s bag into the house, and bit back a smile as she said, “I really don’t think he likes you calling him that.”   
  
“I’m almost positive he doesn’t.” Geralt watched the manager of his estate leave and did feel a tiny bit of guilt. “His name is just such a mouthful.” Looking at the younger witcher, he asked, “Been keeping your blades sharp?”   
  
“Of course,” Ciri scoffed as she bumped him with her elbow. “Dusting off that grindstone of yours was practically the first thing I did after we arrived.”   
  
“That’s right,” Geralt mused, “B.B. mentioned you bringing a guest. Who is it? Dandelion?”   
  
Ciri laughed at that. “If it was Dandelion, don’t you think you’d have heard him by now?”   
  
“Good point,” Geralt mumbled as he glanced around the grounds. “So then who is it?”   
  
Ciri suddenly turned a bit cagey at the question. She turned, taking a few steps away from him before she sighed, planted her hands on her hips, and turned back to face him. “You remember why I left, yeah?”   
  
Geralt remembered, though he’d never quite understood. “You wanted to trace your path back across the worlds you and Avallac’h visited while you were running from the Hunt. Wanted to make sure the people who helped you were safe, repay them if you could.”   
  
“Yes,” Ciri nodded as she began to pace. “That part actually went rather well, for the most part. There were a few places, a few allies, that were worse for wear or...gone. But all things considered, it actually went much better than I’d expected. Until I made my return jump here, back home.”   
  
Attention fully on his daughter, Geralt leaned against some fence railing and prompted, “So what happened?”   
  
“That’s just it! I don’t really know,” Ciri’s frustration at the situation was leaking through as she continued to explain. “I made the jump like I’ve done every time, but...I don’t know. My power, the Elder Blood,  _ something _ , reached out while I was between worlds. Mousesack, er, Ermion,” she corrected herself, “said it was possible that the Elder Blood found another power that it resonated with when I passed too close to another world in the in-between. It latched on and I ended up pulling someone out of their world and into this one.”   
  
Geralt was quiet for a moment as he tried to process and understand what Ciri was telling him. “So…” he began slowly. “Are they Aen Elle?”   
  
“No, no, she’s definitely human,” Ciri answered. “Though she’s shown herself to be a little more.”   
  
Ignoring the last bit of information for the time, Geralt asked, “And you already spoke with Ermion about this?”   
  
“It was actually a little convenient, actually,” Ciri laughed as she came to sit atop the fence railing next to where Geralt stood. “We landed in a heap together right in the middle of the banquet hall in Kaer Trolde. Right in the middle of a banquet table, actually, mid-banquet. It was quite a mess.”   
  
Chuckling, Geralt said, “Mess or not, I’m sure Cerys and Hjalmar were happy to see you. Ermion too.”   
  
“Yes,” Ciri sighed fondly. “After the commotion settled down, it was a rather warm welcome.” Her smile faded a little as the full memory hit. “Though I feel bad for Kagome. She was so dazed. It must’ve been quite a shock for her, regardless of what she’d been through in the past.”   
  
“Kagome, huh?”   
  
“Mm,” Ciri smiled as she thought of the girl. “There was a language barrier at first, but Ermion helped sort that out with a bit of magic. Still has an accent though, unlike any you’ve likely ever heard. But once we were able to speak properly, she’s a very kind girl. Took everything surprisingly well, actually.”   
  
“I’m guessing there’s a reason you haven’t been able to take her back to her world?”   
  
“You’d be correct,” Ciri tilted her head back to look up at the cloudless blue sky. “I’ve no idea what world she’s from or how to find it. I was able to trace the path I took with Avallac’h because my power left something like a trace. But she was more-or-less ripped from her world. Since I never touched the time or place she’d been, I’ve no way to find it again.”   
  
Geralt hummed at that. While he could acknowledge that magic had its uses, he was also of the opinion that it was often more trouble than it was worth. Especially magics that had to do with teleportation. “And Ermion couldn’t help with that?”   
  
“He said it was beyond his scope,” Ciri sighed. “He suggested I try to get help from a sorcerer...or sorceress.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “I don’t suppose you’ve been in touch with Yen or Triss lately, have you?”   
  
Geralt let out a low groan at the mention of both sorceresses, having parted ways with both. After breaking the magical bond that had tied him and Yennefer for so long, they found that their true passions for each other had tempered considerably. And Triss...well, he and Triss had acknowledged that they’d had something in the past, but the past is where they both decided it should be left. There was apparently good reason that witchers most often lived solitary lives. Finally, Geralt answered, “I think Triss is still in Kovir. And last I heard, Yen was somewhere up north, but I don’t know exactly where.”   
  
“I was afraid of that,” Ciri said. “Shame that they’re my best option for finding a way to send Kagome home. Not many truly powerful sorcerers or sorceresses left after those damned witch hunts.”   
  
Geralt hummed in agreement. That much was true. Though there were few magic users that he really got along with, the loss of life and knowledge during Radovid’s witch hunts was tragic. “So where’s your new friend?” He finally asked.   
  
“She was in the gardens when I left her,” Ciri perked up considerably at the mention of her accidental guest. “Come, it’s well past time for you to meet.”   
  
Geralt followed Ciri to the gardens which were curiously empty. “Sure you left her in the garden? It’s a pretty big estate.”   
  
“Please, Geralt,” Ciri chastised as she began to look around. “I’m not one to misplace an entire  _ person _ . Especially not one that I’m responsible for.” She was becoming increasingly concerned when she couldn’t spot her friend in the immediate area. “Geralt, help me find her. I don’t have the witcher senses like you do, and Toussaint can be dangerous even during the day.”   
  
Ciri certainly wasn’t wrong about that. Out of the many dangers in the beautiful countryside, there was an impressive population of varying vampire species that weren’t deterred by sunlight. “Calm down, Ciri, I’m sure she’s fine. She must be close, and I’d smell blood if she was injured.” Walking past her and beyond the garden’s edge, he said, “I’ll check the fields, you check around the vineyard. We’ll find her.”   
  
“Right,” Ciri nodded, and with that she was off on her search.   
  
Geralt took a look around the gardens and found many sets of fresh tracks from the various workers on the grounds, but there was one set in particular that seemed to head out into the tall grass of the fields surrounding the back half of the estate. Following the best lead he had, Geralt took to the fields.   
  
He kept his ears open and nose to the wind for anything that stood out, and he altered his course when he heard a softly hummed tune far off to his left. In the distance he saw a head of dark hair crouched in the grass near some wild herbs.  _ ‘Must be the girl Ciri was talking about,’ _ Geralt thought. He’d need to impress upon her the dangers of wandering off unarmed.   
  
It was only when his sensitive ears picked up the soft snap of a twig from the treeline on the other side of the girl that his pace quickened. Focusing on the area, he caught the low growl of one of the area’s panthers. Geralt broke out into a run to reach the girl just before the panther did the same, charging out of the underbrush.   
  
Hauling the girl back against his chest, Geralt pushed the panther away with a blast of Aard. He watched the cat tumble through the golden grass before it righted itself and faced him with an angry yowl. Getting a good look at the beast, Geralt swore. It was obviously thin, even from a distance. Likely half-starved, it wasn’t going to back away from a potential meal.   
  
Geralt released Kagome and gave her a push back in the direction of the estate grounds before drawing his steel sword and facing off with the panther.   
  
It eyed him carefully, slinking low to the ground as it began to circle him in a wide arch until finally springing into an attack with deadly speed. Geralt moved to dodge, but his heel caught a large stone hidden by the grass, and while he was able to avoid the brunt of the attack, the panther was able to lay claws into his side. Fortunately, he was able to land a less-than-graceful blow to the large cat’s flank as well.   
  
A vicious hiss was cast his way as the cat faced him again, ears laid flat as it backed away with a limp. It seemed to reconsider him with fangs bared, before opting for the easier fight and turning tail to once again go after the girl.   
  
“Shit,” Geralt swore as he took off after the injured beast, managing to tackle it only paces away from the girl’s heels. Before it could round on him in a flurry of teeth and claws, Geralt drew his dagger and landed an efficient killing blow that granted a mercifully quick death.   
  
Pushing away from the still-bleeding carcas, Geralt sat back on his heels and sheathed his sword and dagger so he could examine the claw marks that had managed to tear through the leather of his armor in a couple of places and gouge into his side. The bleeding wasn’t life-threatening, but it would need to be tended to soon. Then, hearing approaching footsteps, Geralt looked up to see the girl, or rather, young woman coming towards him.   
  
“You’re Geralt, aren’t you?” She asked as she kneeled beside him, casting the panther a sad but cautious glance. “You look just like Ciri described.” When Geralt grunted an affirmative, she continued. “Thanks for saving me there, and sorry you got hurt for it. Mind if I take a look?”   
  
Geralt gave the young woman a quick once over before opening the outermost layer of his armor to reveal the gashes in his side. He watched as she inspected the wound with gentle hands before those same hands were engulfed in a light that seeped into his side with a caressing warmth. He could feel the bleeding slow as the skin there stitched itself back together, fresh and tight and pink.   
  
When she looked back up at him with a grateful smile, she said, “My name’s Kagome, by the way.”   
  
Staring into her bright blue eyes that reflected the warmth and brightness of the afternoon sun overhead, Geralt realized that if she could use magic herself, she likely wasn’t as defenseless as he’d first assumed. And despite everything his past experience with sorceresses had taught him, he found himself starting to hope that this was one magic user he didn’t start butting heads with in their coming time together.


End file.
